


We Are Connected

by Tinadapenguin1



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: BertAnnie - Freeform, Eremin - Freeform, Eren Yeager/Armin Arlert - Freeform, Erwin Smith/Levi - Freeform, Erwin/Levi - Freeform, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other, RaiBert - Freeform, Reiner Braun/Bertolt Hoover - Freeform, Reiner/Bert/Annie, eruri - Freeform, hanji/moblit, springles - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-23 01:58:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4858817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinadapenguin1/pseuds/Tinadapenguin1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After living seemingly normal lives, a group of people find themselves linked together. They are from all walks of life, in different cities and with different jobs. As they grow closer, they begin to learn the significance of their bond. They need to work together to use their skill to fight against the organization, Titan. This is fanfic was made drawing inspiration from the Netflix original series, Sense8. I will continue to add characters and relationships as the story goes on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The sound of heavy labored huffs echoed along the walls. The church, a steely gray, which once carried the voices of exuberant chorus, now, dragged the woman’s labored breathing down each slinking corridor. She took in huffs of air, holding her stomach. She gripped tightly, as if her shaking feeble hand could hold the thick liquid in its place. She crawled to a mattress that was laid haphazardly in the center of the room. It would have gone unnoticed by her, had it not been for the moon’s blue tinted rays beaming down on the area through shattered pieces of stained glass mural. She looked up at the mural, her large amber eyes catching glimpse of a shattered Mary, wise men, whose head were ironically removed, and a baby, the sole survivor of the barrage of rocks that had shattered the others. Her dark brown hair matted to her forehead as she crawled, her body leaving a trail of blood that looked like blots from where she would briefly rest her body. She clambered onto the mattress and sat straight up. She was able to see the blood pooling from the gash on her stomach, down her legs and on the mattress. She fell back with a muffled cry. She let her hands roam her stomach. They hadn’t cut deep enough; this could still work. She looked to her side, and saw a man, his expression soft as his feature were highlighted by the moon’s rays.

 

“Grisha,” she moaned out weakly. He clasped her hand and brushed the sweaty pieces of hair off of her forehead.

 

“Yes, Carla. I’m here,” he said. She smile weakly and removed her hand from her stomach and over Grisha’s.

 

“The baby… can the baby-“Grisha shushed her, placing his other hand on her cheek, making small circles with his thumb on the surface.

 

“The baby… our baby will be fine,” he removed his hand from her face and placed it on her stomach. “I’ll deliver the baby, you just worry about breathing.” Carla did just that. She stared at the baby, in the mural, standing alone amidst the destruction of his peers. She focused on the smile of the baby, a smile that the artist would have never known the significance of in the process of making the mural. She was brought back to Grisha, when she heard whimpers. She looked at the baby and smiled.

 

“Eren,” she breathed out. The baby started to cry, a loud hearty cry as he grasped at the air around him. Carla smiled and called the baby’s name again. After a few moments, the baby’s cries subsided to soft grunts. Grisha leaned over Carla so that she could touch the baby’s face. She gasped.

 

“He’s here,” she said in a strained voice. Grisha looked around and clutched the baby.

 

“Where, Carla? Where is he,” Grisha asked. Carla’s eyes were screwed shut, yet tears were still able to stream down her face. Grisha cradled the baby closer to him.

 

“He’s beside me,” Carla whispered out through gritted teeth. Grisha looked at her, but saw nothing. Without a word, he stood and walked beside her. He gripped her hand, still holding the baby, Eren, close to him.

 

“Hmmm… Carla, yer not lookin’ s’good,” a voice said. It was deep and husky. A man leaned in close, his beard just barely grazing Carla’s face. She jerked away, careful not to bump into Grisha.

 

“Don’t listen to him,” Grisha said. He looked in the direction of the man, but only saw the strewn about debris that was in the room. “Kenny Ackerman can’t hurt Eren.” Carla nodded.

 

“Did ya have that baby, Carla?” Kenny asked. He looked around Carla. It was then that Eren started to cry. Kenny eyes focused on the spot beside Carla, he smirked.

 

“There ya are, kiddo,” he said. Carla shot up straight. She shoved Kenny to the side.

 

“Run!” she screamed. Grisha squeezed Carla’s hand one last time before running out the door. He held Eren close to his chest as he leaped over debris; fallen pillars, limbs of the stone angels and saints’ likeness that had succumb to time and abuse. He ran through the corridors and burst through the doors. He used his arms to shield Eren from the cool night’s air. He glanced back at the church.

 

Carla kept her gaze from Kenny, refusing to look in his eyes. He circled around her, pivoting his steps with each way she turned her head.

 

“You think they’ll be saved, Carla, huh?”Kenny asked. His lip was turned up in a snarl. Carla laughed, though it came out in a quiet huff.

 

“They’ll be safe, I’m sure of it,” she said. Kenny stopped and crouched down. He used the back of his hand to brush her hair away. He smirked as he gently tugged at the piece once he got t the end of the strands.

 

“It won’t be like last time, made sure a’that,” he said. Carla looked away and put her hand on her heart.

 

“It doesn’t matter. They’ll meet, sooner or later,” she stopped and looked up at him. She slid her hand underneath the pillow feeling the cold steel. “… and they’ll beat you.” She wrapped her hand around the handle and yanked the small gun up to point it at Kenny. Her hands were shaking. Kenny tilted his head back and laughed.

 

“You gonna shoot me?” he asked. He leaned in so his nose touched the tip of the barrel. “Do it.” He smirked at the way the gun shook. It was pulled away and he stood up. When he looked down at Carla again, she had the gun pressed against her own chin. Kenny’s eyes widened as he reached out to stop her. Carla squeezed her eyes shot. She heard the pop, but didn’t really feel anything. She could feel warmth running down her neck. She smiled, having one final thought before her body hit the mattress.

 

_Keep them safe, Grisha._

**-21 years later: Bavaria, Germany-**

 

Eren gripped the steering wheel to his car as he waited outside the quaint apartments. He groaned and put his head against the steering wheel. He pulled put his phone and read through the texts again. He had let his friend know that he’d be home early from work and wanted to get lunch with him. He should have known that he would be waiting outside for the male. He jumped at the feeling of his phone buzzing in his hand. He unlocked the phone and went to his messages.

 

**Armin: Come on up, got a bit busy.**

Eren rolled his eyes but popped open the door to his car and sauntered up the steps. He knew very well what that meant. He had gotten engrossed in some files he had no business reading. It was Eren’s fault, and he knew it. His years of petty hacking had gained him a very marketable skill, one that he often used to aid Armin in his studies. Armin, being a bright man himself, was able to pick up some hacking trick and would often try to see classified files. As he got closer he could faintly hear house music, the beat thumping against the walls. Eren looked around, seeing if maybe someone was simply playing their music out loud. There was no one there. He quirked an eyebrow. Armin normally preferred classical music when he was researching, if any music at all. This sounded like music from some club. He stopped in front of the door. He felt a piercing pang of pain on his temples. The sudden headache almost floored him. He rubbed his temples with a groan.

 

“Turn down your music, Armin. It’s too fucking loud,” he said as he straightened up. He got no response. He grimaced and hit his fist against the door.

 

“Come on, seriously.” There was still no response. He frowned and opened the door. As the door was pushed open he could see lights. The hardwood floors of his shared apartment were gone. The red and tan furniture that he could always see from the entrance was gone. There was no black out of place heater beside the brick fireplace, no white counter space that peeked into kitchen to his left, no large glass window with varying posters around it. Instead he saw hoards of people; girls in crop tops, daisy dukes, and sandals, men in t-shirts with band labels. All of them had some sort of glow stick on them. Eren hesitated before walking into the crowd. He felt compressed as people danced and waded around him, bumping into him. He was shocked, he could feel them, and he could smell the weed. He felt his throat close up as he walked through a puff of smoke. He looked up at the stage. There was a booth that seemed like it was built to hover over the crowd. He could see and olive skinned woman. She moved with the music. He could tell that she was the DJ. Eren closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was standing beside the woman. He cocked his head to the side and gazed at the woman. Her dark brown hair stopped just at her shoulders. He could see the freckles that dusted over her nose and cheeks. She glanced in his direction and did a double take. She stared wide eyed at him. He felt numb. He could hear what sounded like his name.

 

“Eren?”

 

**-Ankara, Turkey**

 

“…Eren?” Ymir mumbled. She blinked and the man was gone. She assumed that he was her age, though his boyish face made it hard to tell. He had stared at her, his big green- blue eyes entrancing. His hair looked a bit messy, but his clothes had been relatively formal. He seemed confused, yet very familiar as well. She couldn’t place the feeling. Instead of dwelling on the mysterious boy, she shook her shoulders and ran her finger along the digital vinyl.

***

“Eren, you ok?” a voice said. Eren let out a gasp and blinked. He looked around him. He was standing in the middle of the living room. He looked around, his eyes landing on Armin. The blond was close to his height, but looked thinner. He leaned forward in front of Eren. Strands of his blond hair slipped from his shoulder to frame around his neck as he moved.

 

“You seem sick…” he said, his voice trailing off. Eren shook his head.

 

“No, no… I’m just tired,” he said. Armin hummed but moved away from Eren.

 

“It was just kinda weird. You walked right past me when opened the door for you. You looked like you were staring at someone,” Armin said. Eren let out a nervous laugh as he sat on the couch.

 

“You know my asshole boss always runs me ragged,” he said, leaning back on the couch. He wouldn’t bother with what had just happened. There was no way Armin would believe that, especially since he himself didn’t. Armin smirked and walked over to the kitchen.

 

“That’s what you get for bragging. You want some coffee?”

 

“Yes please,” Eren said. He tilted his head back. The woman had felt so familiar. He was confused because he knew he had never met this woman before. And he could have sworn he heard speaking. It wasn’t in German or English. He had no idea what the people around him were saying. He was brought out of his thoughts when Armin walked over to him. He reached his hand out to take the cup, but Armin pulled back. With a smirk, Eren leaned forward and press his lips against Armin’s. The blond giggled and pulled away before the kiss deepened. He set both mugs down and rested against Eren. He took a sip of his coffee, using the tip of his tongue to test its temperature. He set the mug back down and looked at Armin.

 

“So what exactly were you doing?” Eren asked. Armin smiled.

 

“Just trying to see some classified files on the status of our waters,” he said. “It’s actually quite interesting.” Eren smiled and rubbed Armin’s side.

 

“You know, you could get us arrested if you get caught, right?”

 

“Not gonna happen. I learned from the best.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one has mentions of sex scenes! They're not fully written out (as of yet) but just a heads up :) This style of writing is challenging but pretty fun :) I've got three more characters left to introduce and then the whole main cast will be in! That'll be in the next chapter.

**-Queens, New York-**

The sounds of sirens were not unfamiliar to him. He heard them at home, at lunch, everywhere. It didn’t help that they were always blaring at his job. He knew the sounds of sirens would be something he’d have to get used as a cop, but he still hated them. They gave him headache, today was no different. Levi hunched forward, the tips of his fingers pressed tightly against his temples. He had been driving, but when his headache got worse, he let his partner take over.

 

“Need an Advil?” the man asked. His partner was a tall blond man. He towered over Levi, even in their sitting positions. Levi grimaced and shook his head. The blond smiled and rubbed his back.

 

“Need-“ he leaned in close, so that his mouth was right by Levi’s ear. “-something else?” Levi glanced over at him.

 

“Pay attention to the fucking road, Erwin.” He said. Though the words were harsh, they came off like a common, albeit exasperated, comment. Erwin smirked and straightened back up.

 

“Your headaches seem worse, “he said glancing from Levi to the road. The smaller male shrugged.

 

“It’s weird but- I keep havin’ the same dream too,” Levi said. Erwin made a sound, a small grunt. Levi sat up and tilted his head up against the seat.

 

“It’s the same fucking dream, in the same damn church with the same damn people,” Levi said.

 

“Did you recognize the people?” Erwin asked. He turned the wheel, making a smooth transition into the fast lane.

 

“No… Yes? Fuck, I don’t know,” Levi said. He rubbed his eyes gently with his fingertips. “I see so many different people… and I see my mom… she’s always talking to this other woman.” Levi pursed his lips together. “I think she called the other woman ‘Carla’.” Erwin looked down at him briefly.

 

“Your mom… died twenty one years ago today, right?” Erwin asked. Levi looked out the window. He watched as the scenes flashed past him; a boy going down a slide, a small group of boys laughing and playing basketball, a young woman with red hair running down the street with four men close behind her. Levi’s eyes widened as he did a double take to be sure of what he saw. The woman was running past the playground. Her foot caught as she tried to leap over a bench.

 

“Turn your siren on,” Levi said. Erwin did so without a word. He glanced at Levi. “Head for the park.” Erwin grasped the wheel and made a sharp u-turn. Levi leaned forward to get a better view. He was able to spot the woman after a brief scan of the area.

 

“It’s Isabel,” Erwin mumbled, confusion in his voice.

 

“Follow them,”                 Levi said. Erwin pressed down on the gas pedal. Isabel made a sudden turn, cutting through and alleyway.

 

“Keep going straight, you can cut them off if you go down seventh,” Levi said. Erwin nodded and stayed in pursuit. Just as Levi had said, Isabel slipped out of the alleyway right in front them. The men stopped in their tracks at the sight of the police car. Erwin slowed the car down and the men scattered in different directions.

 

“Should we follow them?” Erwin asked, glancing down at Levi. The dark haired male narrowed his eyes. Isabel looked back at them. She seemed to be hesitant as she glanced between them, the now fleeing men, and the direction she had been going. Levi clicked his tongue.

 

“Follow her,” he said. Erwin nodded and sped up again. He stayed close to Isabel. He would occasionally rev the engine close to her, and then stop the car just to rev it again. Levi rolled down the window and stuck his head out.

 

“You can’t outrun a fucking car, Isabel,” he shouted. Without turning all the way around, she stretched her hand toward them, leaving one finger up in the air. Erwin snorted. Isabel ran into a building. Levi grimaced.

 

“Isabel, stop! That’s not safe,” Levi opened the door, the car still in motion. Erwin quickly pressed his foot on the brake. Levi jumped out, his balance never perturbed. He ran after Isabel. She had run into an abandoned daycare. The building was old, and not very sturdy. Levi stopped at the front door, its hinges squeaking angrily as the door struggled to swing back close. He slipped in and walked slowly. The stairs were just down the corridor, to the right. The room had been dark, gray and dank. But as he drew closer, the grays were replaced with off whites and yellows. The cobwebs were replaced with gold embellishments along the wall. He looked up the stairs. It was a white, winding stair case. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to go upstairs, but he found his feet slowly touching each step. He stopped at wooden double doors. They looked like an upside down tear drop, with gold handles. He pushed open the doors, placing his hand over his gun holster. As the door slowly creaked open, he saw rows of wooden benches to the sides of the spacious room. In confusion, he realized that he was in a cathedral. There was a lone man sitting in the first row. Levi gripped the handle of his gun, pulling it out of its holster and kept it trained on the man as he inched forward. The man glanced back. He had the dark, thick robes of a clergyman. Levi inched closer. The man smirked as he faced forward again.

 

“So you came,” the man said. Levi gripped his gun; he could feel his heart thump in his chest with an unfamiliar nervousness. It wasn’t the gripping fear that he would feel in the pit of his stomach during dangerous assignments. It was a surface level fear, akin to being uncomfortable.

 

“What do you plan to do?” The man asked. Levi stopped, the tip of his gun pressed against the back of the man’s head.

 

“I’m gonna blow your fucking head off.”

 

**-Avignon, France-**

“Cut!” a man shouted. Jean heaved out a breath as he lowered the model gun in his hands. He took a step back, running his fingers through his hair. A pot- bellied man stomped up toward Jean from his director’s chair in the back of the faux cathedral.

 

“What the fuck Jean? What the fuck,” he said. He was in front of Jean. Jean took a step back.

 

“I don’t know, it just… it came out,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It felt natural.” The man leaned back. He threw his hands up in exasperation.

 

“Natural? No, no, no, no,” he shouted. He picked up a bundle of papers. He waved it around near Jean and slapped it. “This! This is natural,” he shouted. He slapped the pages when he said “this”, as if to emphasize its meaning. Jean nodded. The man sighed. He rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand. In one sudden movement, he gripped Jean’s face.

 

“Jean, baby, you’ve got this! You’re perfect,” he said. Jean nodded, as best as he could. They both turned at the sound of a gentle laugh. The other man had a headset on and two cups of coffee in his hands. He had a cluster of freckles that dusted his nose and cheeks. Jean smiled and the director released his face.

 

“Why not have a break?” he asked. He walked up and handed the cups to the director and to Jean. “Everyone has one.” The director smiled.

 

“Yes, yes! A break sounds perfect,” he exclaimed. He pat the man’s shoulder. “You’re a God send, Marco!” He smiled and gave a quiet thank you. He walked up to Jean.

 

“He’s too much,” Jean muttered.

 

“He’s just… enthusiastic, yes?” Marco said, stumbling a bit over the word. Jean smiled.

 

“Your French is getting better,” Jean said with a smile.

 

“Big brother!” a voice called out. Jean looked around.

 

“What is it?” Marco asked. Jean held up his hand. He strained his ears. The voice called out again. It was eerily small.

 

“Did you hear that?” Jean asked. Marco shook his head and cocked his head to the side. The voice called out again, this time louder and much closer.

 

***

 

Levi blinked and looked around. His eyes had to adjust to the sudden darkness of the room. He rubbed his head. He stiffened at the sound of movement behind him. With his gun drawn, he turned on his heel to face the person. He locked eyes with Isabel, her hand up and at her sides.

 

“Cool it, Mr. Officer,” she said with a smirk. Levi released a breath and relaxed his arms, letting them fall to his sides.

 

“Never sneak up on an officer,” Levi said, holstering his gun again. Isabel smirked and sauntered up to him.

 

“Hey I called your name,” she said. Levi stared at her blankly. She smirked and pointed at him.

 

“Yeah, you made that face,” she said. Erwin stepped into the room, a smile on his face.

 

“I was wondering why you didn’t catch her first,” he said. Levi sighed and walked up to them.

 

“Isabel, what the hell were you thinking?” Levi asked. He stopped walking once he got in front of her. The room got darker as a cloud passed. Isabel shifted in place. Levi’s expression softened and he leaned back.

 

“You know that could have gone bad if we didn’t see you, right? Why were those guys chasing you anyway?”

 

“Shouldn’t you be mad at the guys chasing your sister?” Erwin smirked, earning a glare from Levi. Isabel huffed and held out her hand. Levi looked down and saw what she was holding. It was a small pendant, one that he had seen many times before.

 

“This is Farlan’s,” Levi muttered. Isabel nodded.

 

“Those guys mugged us last night,” Isabel said. Levi locked eyes with Isabel.

 

“And you didn’t feel the need to tell me?” he practically hissed. Erwin walked over to Levi and placed his hand on the shorter man’s shoulder. Levi glanced between Erwin and Isabel; the former smiling calmly while the latter shifted in place. Levi breathed out and straightened his back.

 

“Isabel, that could have gone bad, really fucking bad,” he said. He reached out and lightly placed his fingers against her arm. She smiled and wrapped her arms around him. Levi smiled and pat her head. He always felt protective over his sister.

**-Bavaria, Germany-**

 

Eren felt his heart beat finally calm as he wrapped his arm around Armin’s waist. Their coffee had been long forgotten as he let his hand roam Armin’s back. He slipped his arms around the male and held him close. Armin let out a small laugh.

 

“Why so protective?” he asked. Eren hummed as he nestled closer.

 

“Just watching after you,” he said. Armin cocked his head to the side in confusion. Eren mimicked the action.

 

“Why did you say that in English?” Armin asked. Eren looked down at him.

 

“I- what?”

 

“You spoke in English, you rarely do that at home,” Armin said. Eren shrugged and kissed his forehead.

 

“Who cares,” he said with a sly smirk. He leaned down and kissed the blond’s forehead. Armin smirked and shifted up so that their lips were touching. Neither made a move to deepen the kiss at first. Eren smirked as he tightly gripped Armin’s hips and pulled him in close. He leaned back on the couch until he was laying horizontally, pulling Armin down on top of him. He opened his legs so that Armin could lay down flat.

 

**-Los Angeles, California-**

 

Bertolt put his hand over his mouth to stifle his moans. He wasn’t sure how his lazy day lounging lead up to this, but he was sure it started when he pressed his lips against his blond roommate. The more muscular male took charge almost immediately and picked Bertolt up from the couch and lead him to their room. He threw the taller man onto the queen sized bed and crawled on top of him. Bertolt could feel the heat from his face. He wasn’t sure what had come over him when he kissed his roommate, he hadn’t even been in the mood at all. But he was overcome with the overwhelming urge. The blond smirked and leaned down to nibble at Bertolt’s neck.

 

“Reiner, stop it-“ he was cut off with his own gasp as Reiner trailed up to his ear. “I don’t want to disturb Annie.”

 

“Don’t care.”

 

“But- but she’s studying,” Bertolt said. Reiner rolled his eyes and leaned down to press his lips against Bertolt’s. He seemed to have forgotten his own protests as he wrapped his arms around Reiner’s neck. He could feel his back arch slightly as Reiner deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into the mix. Bertolt shuttered as the larger male pulled away.

 

“She took enough time off of studying to have her fun with you,” Reiner said with a smirk. Bertolt put his hands to his face, embarrassed. Reiner leaned down and kissed at Bertolt’s jaw. He looked away.

 

“Don’t be embarrassed, I just want my turn,” Reiner said. Bertolt glanced back at Reiner, strands of his dark hair obscuring his view. He pursed his lips together. Reiner smiled again and kissed him. Bertolt could feel knots in his stomach when Reiner began to grind his hips against his. He could feel Reiner tugging at the button on his jeans. He lifted his hips so the blond could tug them completely off. Bertolt could feel Reiner smirk into the kiss when he realized that his underwear and been tugged off as well. Reiner gripper Bertolt’s hip and moved them closer to his pelvis. Bertolt forced himself to relax when he felt hardness against him.

 

***

 

Jean staggered against the refrigerator in his personal trailer. He had tried to control his ragged breaths as he balanced himself to stand up straight. The director had instructed that Jean take a moment to himself so that he could finish the scene while there was still ample lighting outside. He was suddenly hit by a surge of arousal. He wasn’t sure what had caused it, but now he was sliding down to the floor. He sat down, doubling over. He tried to heave out steady breathes to will his erection away. It seemed to get worse as time passed. He shot up to his feet and grabbed one of the water bottles. He drained it down in practically one gulp. He looked down at his pants and groaned. It was still there. He tried everything else he could think of; slapping his face, counting, push-up, jumping jacks. Nothing worked. He turned at the sound of his trailer door opening. He grimaced at the sound of heels. He quickly sat down in the seat in front of his mirror and crossed his legs. Placing his clasped hands on his knee, he used his arms to cover his erection. A young woman with shoulder length black hair that was separate into two low ponytails walked into the trailer. She looked over at Jean and beamed. Jean forced the corners of his mouth up.

 

“Hey, Mina,” he said; careful to control any shaking in his voice. Mina walked over to him and stopped just a few paces in front.

 

“Marco told me you’d be in here,” she said. She leaned forward and pecked him on the cheek. Jean’s smile stayed plastered on his face. “He told me not to come in but…” Mina trailed off as she sauntered over to Jean. She placed her hand over Jean’s. He refrained from twitching away. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear.

 

“For an actor, “she pressed her hand suddenly against his erection. “You’re very bad at hiding things.” Jean jerked up and out of seat. Mina followed him with a sly smile. He moved away until his back was pressed against the mirror.

 

“Ah, no this- this happens sometimes,” he stammered out. He held his hands up. “I’m a bit nervous.” Mina chuckled and grasped onto one of his hands while pressing herself close to him.

 

“Don’t be,” she whispered. They both turned around at the sound of knocking at the door. Marco was standing at the opened door, a smile plastered on his face.

 

“The director wants you to go. He said… we are losing the day?” Marco said, the last part coming out as more of a question.

 

“Oh, you mean losing sunlight,” Mina corrected. Marco narrowed his eyes. It was a brief action. Most people would have missed it, but Jean caught it. Marco’s smile was on his face.

 

“Yes, yes this,” he said. Jean couldn’t help smile. It wasn’t his fault, but Marco’s way of speaking was quirky. It was to be expected since he was still learning French. His attention was brought back to Mina as she pushed herself into a straight position and headed toward the door. She turned back toward Jean.

 

“I’ll see you later tonight,” she said with a little wink. Jean sighed. He looked down and saw that his erection had gone down. He heaved a deep breath and smiled. He looked up and locked eyes with Marco. Before he could say anything, the freckled male smirked and waved his hand to gesture leaving the trailer. Jean nodded and followed behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

**-Trujillo, Peru-**

Connie doubled forward, resting his chin on the top of his steering wheel. He glanced at his iPhone yet again. He had arrived at 7 p.m, right on the dot as he had been asked. Now it was 7:13, and he had yet to turn on his meter. He had texted the woman to let her know that he was downstairs… and she never responded. Connie tapped the phone.

 

“Sasha Braus? Maybe I should call her,” he mumbled. He gently tapped his phone against his lips and hummed. He let his finger hover over the contact button. Just as he was about to press down on the phone, it started to buzz, the woman’s contact information showing at the top. He jumped in his seat and fumbled with his phone before he answered it.

 

“Yeah?” he asked. He mentally kicked himself, embarrassed that he didn’t answer in a more professional manner.

 

“I’m sho shorry! Ish-“ Connie flinched at the sound of the woman falling. He was having trouble understanding the woman. Not only was she speaking in English, but it seemed like she had something in her mouth. He couldn’t help but smile, however, when the woman grumbled around on the phone.

 

“I’m sorry, I just cooked and it was warm and I had to eat it-“

 

“Uhm… ma’am, it is… it is fine,” Connie said, stuttering with his English.

 

“Oh geez- Uhm,” Sasha started. She cleared her throat before speaking in Spanish. “I’m sorry for taking so long.” Connie smiled.

 

“Don’t worry about it, I never started the meter,” he said. He glanced out where the woman said she lived and nearly dropped his phone. He could see a woman with a long brunette ponytail hurridly closing the door. She seemed like she was looking around. Connie blinked himself out of his stuper.

 

“Uh, I’m the Yaris… the Toyota,” he said. Sasha looked over at him and smiled widely. Connie could feel his heart flutter.

 

**-Yokohama, Japan-**

 

Mikasa lightly put her hand to her chest. She sat with her back straight, rigid and still as she tried to get the fluttering to stop without letting the other members of the board see her discomfort. She let out a breath, as quiet as a gentle wisp. She focused on the projector. The different blue prints for future projects. She recognized one of them very well, since she had been the one who made it. Landscaping had been her forte in college. She was able to make a resort hotel with multiple floors, and used the land on the edge of the city that was unused. She gritted her teeth as Kazuki Mastuya stood and walked to the podium. Kazuki could barely handle the projector by himself, not without Mikasa there to hold his hand. She breathed as evenly as she could in frustration as Kazuki fumbled through the presentation, her presentation. She grit her teeth harder, feeling her fist clench against the hem of her pencil skirt. The lights were turned on again and she sighed, releasing the tension that had formed in her. A lanky looking man with graying hair stood. He had an aura of authority as he looked at the faces around the table. His eyes stopped on Mikasa. She nodded and stood as well.

 

“We would like to thank you for coming and doing business with us,” she said as she walked toward the podium to pick up the papers. She stood beside the man and bowed. They both turned and walked out of the door. As they walked down the hallway, Mikasa tugged her skirt down, trying to cover the remnants of a bruise.

 

“You’re still fighting I see,” the man said. Mikasa glanced over at him.

 

“Yes… Mr. Tanaka,” Mikasa said. She kept her eyes on him. She saw his smirk and felt her shoulders relax.

 

“You know, that strength is both a blessing and a curse,” he said. Mikasa grimaced and faced forward.

 

“Is that why Mastuya was the one to do the presentation, and not me?” she asked. There was a silence between them. The only sound was the click of her heels as they walked. She glanced at the man several times, expecting an answer but getting none. They stopped at a door that said “CEO” on the label. Underneath it read “Tanaka Yashiro”. Yashiro looked back at her and smiled.

 

“Yes.”

 

**-Mumbai, India-**

“Fuck!” Hanji jumped back as a small vile tipped over, its contents spilling on the table. She laughed and rubbed the back of her head.

 

“Hah… not even a little explosion?” she asked. She had been doing fine. But she was suddenly hit with a wave of overwhelming irritation. She wasn’t completely angry, yet she was extremely frustrated. She couldn’t understand the feeling and it distracted her from her work.

 

“Hanji!” a male’s voice rang out. She turned and faced the door to the small pharmaceutical lab. A man with sandy brown hair shoved the door open.

 

“Ah, Moblit, perfect timing!” Hanji grabbed Moblit’s arm and shoved him near the table. “Can you clean this up for me? I’ve got some more experiments to do.” Moblit stood there for a moment before he shook his head.

 

“You- you’re a biologist, who studies medicine at pharmacy,” he stopped and motioned at the mess on the table. “Why are you messing with chemistry?” Hanji shrugged.

 

“Knowledge for knowledge sake,” Hanji said. She smiled brightly and walked back to the table. Moblit sighed and went to the sink to grab a towel and handed it to her. She smiled and carefully soaked up the spill. Moblit walked near her with a towel of his own and cleaned the spot with her. They stayed silent for a bit before Hanji looked over at him.

 

“So have you found a venue?” she asked. Moblit smirked and looked over at her.

 

“Isn’t that what you should be doing?” he asked. She laughed and carefully held the soaked towel between her fingers.

 

“There’s no rule that says the wife has to do that,” she said. Moblit nodded, grabbed his towel and followed her to the sink.

 

“To answer your question, yes I found a spot,” he said. They both leaned against the sink.

 

“I’m thinking, New York, in Madison Square Garden,” he continued, beaming. Hanji smiled and grabbed his hand.

 

“I’ve got a buddy up there, he from Queens though,” she said. Moblit faced her, his cheeks a bit red.

 

“You met in college, right?” he asked. She nodded a smile still on her face.

 

**-Unknown-**

Grisha closed his eyes, though it didn’t really do much in the darkness. He clasped the handle of the briefcase tightly. He wasn’t sure who to reach out to first, he wasn’t even sure that all of them would respond. But they were ready, and he knew it. It was time they knew too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one ended much shorter than I intended ^^ oh well. Now that all the characters have been introduced, the story can officially begin! 
> 
> A little note, I won't be using the honorifix with the Japanese names, because, let's be real, that's a lot to keep up with ^^ Hopefully the use of "Mr/Ms/Mrs isn't too off putting for anyone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost two years later, I finally updated ^^
> 
> Anyway, if you're reading this, go watch sense8!! It's so good and way better visually than I think I could ever write.

**-Ankara, Turkey-**

Ymir groaned as she stretched her arms over her head. The party was still going strong, even without her at her turntable. She looked around her table of friends, though she used the term a little too liberally for it to still have any meaning. Her eyes fell on the one person that ever managed to catch her attention. The petite blonde flipped her hair over her shoulder, smiling broadly at the man beside her. Ymir crossed her leg, wishing that it was long enough to kick the man in the face as he wrapped his arm around her tiny shoulders. She couldn’t tell what they were saying, but she could recognize her signature fake giggle as she brought her hand to her lips to try and hide the lack of a smile.

 

“Yo, Christa,” she called out. The blonde looked over at her and immediately stood up. She excused herself with a pat on the man’s shoulder. The blonde sat down beside her with that almost annoying bright, perfect smile.

 

“You did amazing,” she exclaimed, clasping her hands together. Ymir shrugged.

 

“She sure as hell did!” one of the other men, clearly drunk, exclaimed. Ymir smirked at him and tilted her head to the side to look at him.

 

“Thanks, Faruk, maybe one day you could be half as useful,” she snarked. The man threw his head back and laughed, slapping his hand against his knee. The other men laughed as well. Drinks and drugs were passed between them.

 

“I’m plenty useful,” he slurred. He plucked up a rolled joint that one of the other men had passed to him. “There’s no way you pretty little ladies could finish this off by yourselves.” Ymir rolled her eyes and looked over at Christa, who eyed the drugs between the man’s hand nervously.

 

“Can’t beat me there. Anyway, Christa,” she started, looking down at the blonde. She looked up at her. Ymir couldn’t hold back her smile as she looked into her big blue eyes. “Why don’t I take you home?” She stood up, leaving no room for the blonde to refuse. Said blonde gratefully nodded. She stood up and brushed out any wrinkles in her dress. Ymir looked back and tipped two fingers in their direction. She grabbed both of their coats from the couch.

 

“Hey! Bring you’re a- game next week,” Faruk called. Ymir nodded and walked away from the VIP table, her arm slung over Christa’s. They waded through the thick crowd. She did a double take when she saw a familiar face. His big teal eyes weren’t focused on her, but she could see the look of confusion plastered on his face as he looked around. Ymir opted to ignore him, tightening her grip on Christa and trudged through the crowd. Once they were outside, they were hit with an immediate blast of snowy wind. The chill was so familiar to her that it barely had an effect on her. Even so, she released her grip on Christa and handed the girl her coat. Ymir started to put on her own coat, and glanced at the window. She jolted at the reflection.

 

“What’s wrong,” Christa asked. She could see the little blonde at her side. But where she should have been standing was a confused looking Asian woman. Her features, beautiful as they may have been, were nothing like the olive skin and freckle clusters that she knew to be her face.

 

**-Yokohama, Japan-**

Mikasa took a step back from the mirror. She forced herself back into composure when a man limped past her. She brushed the longer parts of her hair out of her face. She brushed her finger tips against the skin, the freckles that she could have sworn that she saw were gone. Her skin was pale again. She pressed her lips into a thin line in confusion. The chill she had felt was confusing enough. The underground ring that she frequented was always hot and muggy. She glanced to her side to glance at the man that had limped past her. Takahiro, is what the roster had said. His fight against her next opponent should have only just started mere minutes ago. Even so, he seemed to struggle using his left leg and there was a clear bruise on his eye. She grinned as she faced the mirror again. She tied her hair into a ponytail, using various clips to keep her bangs out of her face.

 

“Kana?” a voice called. Mikasa turned to address her alias.

 

“That’s me,” she said. The man nodded and motioned for her to follow him. She wordlessly trailed behind him. She ignored the jeers of the crowd as she was lead to the ring. A small smile played at her lips. There was a man on the other side of the ring. He had a gaudy cape that hung loosely on his muscled shoulders. He rose his arms having the crowd scream as he raised each arm. He was a crowd favorite. Those were the most fun to knock down a peg or two. The referee came to her side and lifted the ropes. She dipped her head down and eased through the opening with the grace that was always expected of her. The man stopped goading the crowd to face her. He looked her up and down before emitting a loud and grating laugh.

 

“This,” he proclaimed, motioning toward her. “This is my opponent?” Mikasa tilted her head at his incredulous tone, narrowing her piercing eyes in his direction. He faltered slightly before turning to face the referee.

 

“This must be a joke,” the man said.

 

“It’s not,” she retorted. Mikasa stayed still as she kept her eyes on the man. He paced in a small line before snapping his attention back to her.

 

“I don’t hit bitches,” he said with a sneer. Mikasa tilted her head at him. The man seemed to revel in the laughter that erupted from the crowd.

 

“That’s funny,” she started. She widened the space between her feet and lowered her stance. She brought her right hand up, holding the arm in a rigid angle. She reared her other arm back, settling the hand into a fist. “Because I do.” She winked at the man as he grit his teeth. Audible snickers echoed from the crowd. Her concentration broke when she saw a flash of an unfamiliar area. There was gray looking and cracked cobblestone on the ground. On either side of her were dingy mustard colored buildings. They looked like homes in a Hispanic region. She stared in confusion as the dark light of the underground ring were replaced with a blazing sun. She could feel her right arm being pushed down. It wasn’t until she felt a fist strike against her face that everything became familiar again. She looked up to see the man walking toward the ropes.

 

“Hey,” she called out. The man looked back at her with a smirk. She spit a mixture of spit and blood out of her mouth. “We’re not finished.” She charged at the man. He swung his fist out at her but she dipped down. She swung her leg out, hitting the man in the back. He hit the ground without even using his arms to block his fall. He lay motionless. Mikasa put her hand on her hips with a disappointed frown.

 

“Seriously?” she muttered, though, it wasn’t audible to anyone else as the crowd erupted into cheers. She walked over to the referee, who unceremoniously handed her a thick black belt. She plucked it up and maneuvered wordlessly through the crowd, rubbing against her cheek. She could tell a bruise was going to form.

 

**-Trujillo, Peru-**

Connie rubbed at his cheek. For some reason, everything had gotten dark. There were black lights and a ton of people around him. He completely froze when he saw a man running toward him. Nothing actually hit him, and yet his cheek still stung to the touch.

 

“You ok, big bro?” a young girl asked. Connie looked down and smiled at her.

 

“Yeah, I’m ok, Sunny,” he said. He leaned down and scooped up the young girl. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He stuck his hand out for the young boy beside him, who begrudgingly took it after a brief moment.

 

“Why so grumpy, Martin?” Connie asked. The boy looked away with a slight pout.

 

“Why’d you have to park so far away?” Martin grumbled out. Connie sighed and trudged along.

 

“That car’s too nice to park anywhere near here,” Connie responded. He looked down at his younger brother and fondly pat the top of his head.

 

**-Los Angelos, California-**

Bertolt sat, curled up on the couch with his head resting on the back. He felt a fondness as he watched Reiner and Annie work in the kitchen. Reiner was over the stove, flipping the vegetables that Annie had diced to perfection. Reiner moved the wok against the burner that was a bit too small for. Bertolt fiddled with his Beretta M9. He had just put it back together after cleaning. The glistening metal was even cool to the touch with the lack of past fingerprints.

 

“Come on, do you really need that thing?” Reiner called. Bertolt sighed and reached over to pluck up the thick case that he used to hold his gun. Velvety felt perfectly encased his gun as he gently slipped it into the mold.

 

“I just finished cleaning it,” he replied. Annie glanced from behind Reiner after soaking the excess from the vegetables from the cutting board with a paper towel.

 

“Did Marcel call back?” she asked, casting her gaze between the two males. Bertolt pressed his lips into a thin line.

 

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

 

“Well, whatever he needs, it can wait til’ after dinner,” Reiner said sternly. The two blondes divvied out the contents of the wok between the three of them. They took a seat on either side of the lanky dark haired male, with Reiner flicking on the TV. Bertolt didn’t pay much attention to the TV as they ate, seeing as how a figure had caught his eye. To call it a figure was probably wrong. The person wandering around behind him was clear as day. He was a slightly shorter man, and his narrow eyes scanned the room in confusion. He was dressed as if he was going somewhere fancy, with a tailored dark suit. His hair, that didn’t match the undercut, was brushed back. Bertolt swallowed heavily, trying his best to keep his eyes from trailing back to the man.

 

“You ok?” Reiner asked. Bertolt let out a gentle sigh to steady his nerves. He felt calmer with his attention on the way that Reiner had his hand gently against his thigh. Even Annie had set her food aside to place a hand on his knee.

 

“I’m fine, just distracted,” he said. At least he was being honest. He looked at the TV again, to see if he could still see the man in the reflection. He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw that the space behind them was empty again.

 

**-Avignon, France-**

Jean looked around him again. He had walked from the living room of his penthouse apartment and past the wooden rack of wine. Though the area that he had walked into had hard wood flooring, nothing else was familiar. It looked like a studio apartment, a relatively spacious one. The décor was definitely not something that he would have chosen, but it was quaint. He had no idea how he had gotten there. All he knew was to try and avoid garnering the attention of the three lounging on the couch. Jean was startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned on his heel to see his kitchen, wide with pristine tiles and his sleek kitchenware electronics. He forced out a breath that he hadn’t realized that he had been holding when his gaze fell onto Marco. The freckled male had already removed the jacket to his suit and his off- white button down shirt was un-tucked from the black pants to the suit.

 

“Are you ok?” he asked. Jean smiled at the way the man’s hand briefly stopped at his chest before slipping away.

 

“I’m good. Just distracted,” he said. He slipped his hand into Marco and tugged him toward their shared bedroom. Jean gently led the freckled male against the large bookshelf, once they passed through the door frame. He kissed the freckled dusted cheek and leaned back with a wide grin.

 

“I wish you had worn the suit I bought you,” he said.

 

“It was a matching suit… wouldn’t that be…” Marco paused, struggling with what would be the best words to use. “Suspicious?” Jean smiled and let his hands rest on the man’s hips.

 

“That could describe it, I guess,” Jean said. He pulled Marco away from the bookshelf and pushed him onto the bed. Pressing their lips together, Jean began to remove the jacket and shirt to his suit. He hooked his fingers onto Marco’s tie once his torso was completely bare. He pulled him up to deepen the kiss. He parted abruptly when he heard his door bell ring.

 

“Paparazzi are so annoying,” he muttered. He turned back to Marco and felt a smile spread onto his face again. The freckled male’s cheeks were tinted red. He leaned down and pressed his lips against Marco’s again. He smirked into the kiss as he tugged at the belt on his hips, and the whimper that it elicited. The door bell chimed again, this time in rapid succession. There was a soft buzz, indicating that whoever was at the door had pressed the call button.

 

“Oh Jean,” a female voice called.

 

“I don’t think that’s paparazzi,” Marco said, his lips now in a tight unamused line. Jean sat up and glanced past the doorframe. He could see the stairs that lead to the spacious lobby- esque area of his penthouse apartment.

 

“Maybe I can ignore her?” Jean mused quietly. As if to answer, the door bell was rung again. Marco sighed and sat up.

 

“I doubt she’s leaving,” Marco said. Jean grimaced. He gave Marco a quick peck on the lips.

 

“Be right back,” he said. He made quick work of getting down the steps. It wasn’t until he reached the door that he realized he was still shirtless. He glanced through the peep hole an had to bite back a groan.

 

“Mina, is there something you need?” he asked, trying to stay polite. He heard a giggle and glanced at her again. He could see a bottle of champagne cradled in her arms.

 

“I think you may need this more than me,” she said with a grin. Jean winced when a flash brightened the small space for the peep hole. He turned briefly to let his eyes adjust, only to see that more flashes sparked. Hr grimaced at the obvious signs of a camera.

 

“Oh looked like the paparazzi followed me,” she said with feigned innocence. “I can’t imagine why.” Jean took a deep breath. He looked around him and briefly cursed at how immaculate Marco insisted the home to be. He quickly ran back up and the stairs and grabbed his button down shirt that had been tangled with his discarded jacket.

 

“Well?” Marco asked with his head propped lazily on his arm as he lay on the bed. Jean quickly went over to him and kissed his temple.

 

“Just one more minute,” he said. He ran back down the stairs. He breathed in deeply through his nose to try and steady his breathing. He opened the door and gently pulled Mina in. He gave a quick “no photos pleas” before shutting and locking the door. When Jean faced her again, she had removed her jacket to reveal a form fitting designer gown.

 

“Where are your glasses?” she asked. He meandered past him, her heels clicking on the floor. Jean quickly stood in front of her.

 

“I think the better question is ‘why are you here’,” he retorted. She smiled and placed her hands on her hips.

 

“I’m here to help you, silly. Here,” she said, abruptly shoving the bottle into Jean’s hands. He was slightly confused but immediately started sputtering as she began to shimmy out of the tight dress. Jean looked away as she was left in lacey underwear. “You looked so stiff at the party tonight; I thought I’d give you a hand. Help you relax.” Jean was left wide- eyed at the purr in her voice.

 

“I- I don’t need help with that right now,” he said.

 

“Right now?” she repeated with a quirked brow. Jean nodded. They both stayed still before Mina headed toward the stairs.

 

“I didn’t see you talk to any girls,” she murmured. Jean tried to follow her but had been so stunned that he stumbled up the steps. By the time he reached Mina, she was already in the room, staring wide eyed at the bed. Marco sat with his back propped up on the head board. Jean set the champagne bottle on the nightstand and looked between the two before settling his attention on Mina.

 

“It’s… not what you think-”

 

“It’s exactly what you think,” Marco cut in.

 

“You mean…” Mina started, tilting her head to the side.

 

“Yes, he’s gay and with me,” Marco stated flatly. Jean motioned, wide eyed and clearly upset. The freckled male shrugged obstinately.

 

“This…is…. perfect!” Mina exclaimed. She muttered out that she would return before heading out of the room. Her heels clicked against the hard surface of the stairs, the sound echoing through the house. Jean looked back at Marco with a confused expression.

 

“Is my French that bad?” Marco asked. Jean shrugged. They both turned their attention to the door as Mina waltzed back in with two glasses in her hand. She picked up the champagne and poured a glass for Jean.

 

“This is perfect! I can be your beard,” she said.

 

“Beard,” the two repeated, clear confusion etched on their faces. Mina nodded with a wide smile. She started to pour the second glass.

 

“Yes, basically, I’ll just be your fake girlfriend to have out in public. Besides,” she paused to hand Marco the glass. She sat down on the bed beside him with a smile, taking a sip of the champagne straight from the bottle. “I love gay porn.” The two males stared at each other. Marco looked incredulous, confused yet relived. Jean heaved out a sigh.

 

“Perfect…” he mumbled out.

 

**-Queens, New York-**

 

Levi leaned on the wall with his arms folded over his chest. His mouth was set in a tight frown. The noise of the bar was too much. He heaved out a sigh when he heard a very familiar screaming. He looked up to see Isabel, drunk with a heavy bush on her cheeks. She was yelling and pointing at a guy he didn’t recognize. He recognized the person that was holding her back, Farlan. He had a nervous look on his face as he tried to deescalate whatever argument that had transpired. Levi opted to soothe at his temples to try and push the headache away. The rain, that had been practically nonstop for the past two days, didn’t help with his spiked agitation. He didn’t bother looking up when he heard footsteps make their way to him. He only looked up when he felt an arm snake around his waist. He looked up into the striking eyes of his partner and boyfriend.

 

“You can try and have fun at their engagement party,” Erwin said. Levi sighed and leaned into the blond’s hold.

 

“I know and I’m trying,” he said.

 

“Is it weird?”

 

“No… not really. Farlan’s a good guy so I’m not worried,” he said. Erwin rubbed up his arm.

 

“So what’s wrong?” Erwin asked. Levi looked up again. The same unfamiliar man was wandering around the bar. The harsh looking features were hidden behind the shadow casted by his hat. Levi pursed his lips together, trying to keep from staring at the man.

 

“You know everybody here, right?” Levi asked. Erwin looked down at him. He followed the smaller man’s gaze. Levi didn’t miss the furrow in his brows.

 

“I know everyone here, you should too…” Erwin started. He seemed to try and concentrate on where Levi had been looking. “Unless you’re seeing something I’m not.” Levi pursed his lips together before turning back toward the man. He abruptly turned to fix his gaze on Levi. Forcing himself not to shift, he focused just past the man; where Isabel was.

 

“Not at all,” he muttered. He closed his eyes and breathed out through his nose. His headache was getting worse.

 

**-Mumbai, India-**

Hanji fumbled through the various containers in the entrance area of her shared apartment. She could hear the rain coming down in sheets, though the weather hadn’t said anything about that in their area. She could hear Moblit shuffling through their rooms.

 

“What’re you looking for?” she called out to him. She briefly stopped to look up in his general direction. He came out from the living room with his shirt hanging loosely around him from not buttoning it up.

 

“I’m looking for my nice tie, you?” he asked. She shifted through the container before glancing up to see the tie in question folded on the entry table. She called for him to get it before looking for her belongings.

 

“I’m trying to find an umbrella, its coming down hard out there,” she said.

 

“What do you mean? There’s no rain,” he said. She glanced up and looked out the window. She jumped up from her spot on the floor and ran to the window. She pressed her hands against to the glass and let out a shocked shout. The sun was shining, almost harshly so. The ground looked like it hadn’t gotten a drop of water in a ages.

 

“But… ah, never mind. We gotta go anyway,” she said. Moblit had just finished pulling his tie through the last loop when Hanji grabbed his hand and tugged him out of the door. She looked at her phone and grimaced.

 

“We are so late,” she grumbled. They ran down the stairs and toward the garage just across the street.

 

“You’ll be fine, Hanji,” he said with a gentle smile. Hanji stopped in her tracks and turned to face him. She had stopped so fast, that Moblit had to jump back as to not run into her.

 

“You know my mom! She’s so… so-”

 

“Like you?” he cut off with a smile. Hanji looked back at him with the smallest hint of a glare. It immediately faded when she saw his gentle smile. He leaned down and kissed her on the temple.

 

“You’re stressing yourself out more than you need to,” he said, Hanji heaved out a sigh, but smiled when Moblit snaked his hand around her waist. “Let’s just go to lunch, and then we can just relax.” He looked down at her with a barely contained snicker.

 

“Maybe we’ll even get that rain you seem to be hoping for,” he said through a grin. Hanji rolled her eyes and nudged him gently on the side.

 

**-Bavaria, Germany-**

Eren lay sprawled out on his couch. He looked down at his phone again and frowned. Armin was going to be out for the majority of the night. The idea of him having to cook for himself made him groan. He glanced at his phone again to check the time. It was close to dinner time. He shifted on the couch so that he was sitting upright. Once his feet were touching the ground he pushed off of the couch and made his way to the couch. Rubbing his eyes, he walked through the kitchen, grabbing a pot, a strainer and some pasta noodle. After filling the pot halfway with water, he set it on the stove to bring it to a boil. He rubbed his head with a sigh. A mean headache was starting. It was enough to cause pain all along hie head with an uncomfortable pressure. Through the numbness of the headache, he could hear the sound of leather soles padding against the tiled floor of his kitchen. He steadily walked toward the drawer that held the utensil, knives included, and kept the stiffness from his shoulders when he felt a definite presence behind him. He slowly gripped the handle of the drawer to pull it out.

 

“That won’t be necessary,” a voice said.

 

***

 

Eren whipped around. He tried to keep a look of shock from his face. There was a man with long hair, staring right at him. The man looked oddly familiar to him. He wasn’t sure if it was his eyes, which looked shockingly similar to his own or the way he softly smiled at him. Eren couldn’t take in the man’s appearance for long as he gazed at the unfamiliar setting. It looked like a rundown church, littered with rubble and broken glass. He looked around him and past the man. There were seven other people; the tan woman he recognized, a tall lanky man, a short man with a buzz cut, a man with light colored hair that didn’t match his undercut, a short intimidating looking man, an Asian woman and a brunette woman with glasses. They all looked confused, though some hid it better than others. Eren swallowed heavily and glanced at the man with eyes like his own. The man smiled.

 

“I’m sure you all have questions,” he started smoothly. He looked between all of them, purposefully staring down each person. “I can’t answer everything, but now that you’re all aware, you need to know that you’re being watched; hunted.”

 

Eren swallowed heavily at the man’s words. He suddenly felt a shearing pain in his head. With a slight gasp, he brought his hand to his forehead. He couldn’t even hear the people around them, but he could see them; flashes of them. He saw vivid images of what he assumed were the people he had been around, through their eyes. He shut his eyes tight, but the images didn’t go away. There were so many flooding his vision. After what was likely a few seconds, but felt like hours, his vision started to fade.

 

“Welcome to your cluster,” the man said.


End file.
